A grin slipped onto Sam's face as he turned the knob cracking the door open, freeing himself from his holding cell. He had found the door fairly easily considering his current state and was more than pleased with himself for accomplishing the task. I wish Dad and Dean could see me now. They'd be proud.
Stepping through the doorway, he cocked his head to the left and then shifted it to the right. The grayish mass that the left offered seemed a far lighter shade than his right, whose dark gray seemed to stretch out into unending black. I don't like black.
He moved left slowly, dragging his feet to lessen his possibility of tripping again. After taking a few steps, he stretched out his arm, his fingers brushing against the solid wall. Sam traced his fingers along the wall, and began following it. His hand every so often contacting risen wood. More doors? It must be a hallway.
A sickening cry resounded through the house, halting Sam. What was that? Myrah? No, that sounded almost…human. Sam held his breath as he waited nervously for the next sound to hit his ears, straining to hear which direction the cry came from. Within minutes, another blood curling scream reverberated off the walls. Sam's felt his chest tighten. He knew that voice all too well. Dean? Oh, God..I'm too late.
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Dean bit down on his tongue hard as he surveyed the damage. He'd broken bones before, but he'd never had one protruding out like this. In a way, it intrigued him, like researching a type of supernatural being for the first time did. He shifted slightly and automatically regretted the movement. Ha, I think I'd sell my soul for some vicodin right about now….
He'd already let a couple of screams slip out, as Jessie tried to clean the caked blood off his leg and readjust his pant leg, and that was well past his allowed limit. It upset him to see Jessie so tense and stressed because of him, and began internally berating himself for not being stronger.
"Ok…I really think we should leave and get you to a doctor." It was the first time Jessie had spoke since uncovering his wound completely and Dean could tell she was trying her best to stay calm. But there was no way in hell he was leaving without Sam. I'm not screwing this up too.
"No." He panted between harsh breaths.
"Dean, it's bad. Real bad. You can't help your brother like this. We need to get you some help first." Jessie replied quickly, desperately trying to convince him leaving was the right thing to do. Does he ever put himself before his brother?
"I ca—won't leave him again. I-I mean, look w-what hap-happened last time." Dean heaved, tilting his head back resting it on the back of the chair. "C—can't you just put it back in pl—place or s-something?"
"Come again?" Dean smirked at the sheer disbelief that enveloped Jessie's sharp reply.
"You know—fix it."
"Dean Winchester, what the hell is wrong with you? Of course I can't fix this. Who do you think I am—Florence Nightingale?" Jessie voice raised a couple of octaves, marveling at the sheer stupidity of the suggestion.
"Maybe." Jessie bit her lip. She was getting tired of dealing with Dean's hero complex and even more tired of his refusal to accept her help. God, he's stubborn
"No, Dean. We're leaving right now. I'm taking you to the hospital, and I'll call the police to come back here to get Sam." She went to lift him out of the chair, but he pulled back almost falling over in the process.
"I'm not going anywhere!" Dean growled as he regained his balance and started to push himself up into a standing position, balancing all his weight on his left leg. I'm gonna freakin' hop if I have to.
"Dean—""Would it kill you to shut up for just one minute and actually listen to me?" The frustration and anger pouring from the man before Jessie caused her to cringe. Dean sighed heavily as he saw her face. Can I do anything right anymore?
"Look, Jessie, the same thing that took my brother did this to me. The police can't destroy this thing, trust me. So don't even think about mentioning leaving this house again, ok? I'm not going anywhere 'til I find that freakin' thing and kill it and I'm definitely not going anywhere without Sam." Dean tried to soften his tone, but his heavy breathing coupled with his state of panic still made the words fly out somewhat harsh.
"Okay, Dean, okay. Just let me help." Jessie muttered. Please, don't fight me on this.
"Yeah, alright." Jessie smiled sadly at his compliance knowing it was only due the intense pain ravaging his body. She wasn't going to let Dean know that it was written all over his pale face, he was doing his best to hide it. Last thing he needed to hear was that he was failing miserably. She wrapped her arm around his waist and draped his over her shoulder.
"So…where should we look first? And what exactly did you mean by "thing"?
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Sam leaned his body against the wall staring into the dark gray he now faced head on. He wanted to call out to his brother, but he knew Myrah was around somewhere, and the last thing he needed was to summon her back. Sure, he hadn't felt her presence in a while, but she wasn't just going to leave him alone. She's probably too occupied torturing Dean.
He forced himself to focus. His brother's voice had sounded distant, and had appeared to come from somewhere beneath him. I must be upstairs. Oh, god, stairs….
Sam pulled himself away from the wall and started moving towards the dark surrounding him. It must be open area. It has to be…the stairs have to be here somewhere.
His progress was stopped as his stomach came in contact with a long horizontal piece of wood. A banister. He grabbed hold of it and followed it as far as it stretched before hitting a wall. Wrong way. I went the wrong way!
Turning as quickly as he could, he proceeded in the opposite direction until he felt the wood turn to the right and nothing but air met him. Sam clutched the banister with both hands keeping his body parallel to it, his fingers aching as he began tightening his death grip.
His heart was racing as he stretched his leg as far as he could until the toe of his boot hit wood. Okay, so maybe this won't be too bad. He knew that the next step was probably only 6 inches below this one, but he couldn't slow down his breathing or stop the way his legs were shaking.
The process of getting down was extremely slow, and Sam couldn't help thinking about how he was going to explain to his dad that Dean had died because he couldn't walk down a flight of stairs. He had gotten 10 steps down, when he heard a crash followed by a stream of obscenities.
"Dean! Dean? Is that you?"
"Sammy?" Never in Sam's life had he loved the sound of that dreadful nickname that had stuck with him since childhood.
"Yeah…Dean, it's me." Sam choked in reply. Don't cry…not in front of Dean. Sam could hear a women's soft voice coaxing Dean along, asking his brother if he was ok and if he could stand on his own awhile. Sam was perplexed by her question but then he remembered the screams only minutes before.
"Dean? Are you ok? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Sammy. I'm fine. Just a little sore is all. Stay where you are. Jessie's gonna help you get down." Dean hadn't finished his sentence when Sam felt a hand brush his arm.
"Hey, Sam. It's nice to meet you. I'm Jessie. You're brother's told me so much about you. Now, let's get you down." Sam let Jessie lead him and admired how good she was at explaining his surroundings as well as encouraging him as he allowed himself to trust her guidance. She'd even mentioned how proud she was that he attempted to climb down on his own.
They reached the main floor and Sam felt his brother's hand come to rest on his shoulder. He brought his hand up, squeezing his brother's in his own.
Sam was about to comment on the impending chic flick moment, when he realized Dean was gasping for air and felt his hand slip out from under his. He heard Jessie call out and felt her brush quickly by him followed by a thud, he could only assume was his brother's body meeting the floor.
"What's going on? Dean? Jessie? Somebody answer me!"
"Sam." Sam held his breath noting that it was Jessie who answered him, not Dean. "You're brother had a pretty nasty fall. His leg's broken and God only knows if he has any other internal injuries. He needs to rest for a bit. He's pushed himself a little too far."
Sam didn't offer a reply, choosing rather to clench his jaw and hold his tongue for the time being. His only reason being he was terrified of what might come out of his mouth. He lied. He freakin' lied. I knew he wasn't ok. Why does he always do this? A chill ran it's way up Sam's spine, jarring him from his thoughts.
"Jessie, we have to get out of here before she comes back." The room's temperature was now that of the Arctic and Sam knew that it was too late, Myrah had returned. "Jessie, we have to go. NOW!"
A scream pierced his ears and Sam swore he saw a white flash moving toward him. He cried out as his legs were whipped out from under him, jerking as he felt a hand grab his head before it collided with the floor as his brother's voice whispered fiercely into his ear.
"I got you, Sammy. She's not gonna get you. I promise"
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Alright, lemme just say that i am really proud of myself for finishing 3chapters in one weekend. haha. Well, okay, then...lemme know what you think!